Run like Hell
by IKillZombiesForFun
Summary: The infection turned most of the population into deadly killing machines, but the true threat was beside him all along, now all he can do is run.


**A/N:** Hey guys, I know I haven't been on in while to update, and don't worry, I'm still working on Safety in Hell, but thought I would take a small break and start something new. Now, mind you, me and a friend started writing this at 2 in the morning so I apologize if there are any mistakes. But I thought I would upload this and see what people say, if you like it, I might write more. Also, even though some of the characters are the same, this story has nothing to do with Safety in Hell. Anyway, enjoy! :)

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Prologue

Blue-ish light splashed over the dark walls as the man sat in darkness, eyes glued to the giant screen in front of him.

The man was in his late thirties but his hardened face made him appear older. His hair was a caramel brown and cut short. A thick scruff began to form on his face, he hadn't left the room in days. Cold, unforgiving gray eyes never left the screen. Dark circles under them revealed his lack of sleep. His last cigarette was between his dry lips, freshly lit. He was tall and well built. Muscles pulled against the camouflage fabric that made up his uniform.

He took a long drag on the cigarette and grabbed the remote on the desk to his left. He hit rewind and the images began to reverse themselves. Once the man found a place he was pleased with he hit play and watched.

On the large screen, a military helicopter landed. The blades slowed to a stop as men jumped out of the aircraft. More men exited the building to the right to assist those from the helicopter. The back of the helicopter slowly opened and men rushed inside.

Moments later, the first few men left the aircraft. They led the first of four out into the light.

The older man blinked against the bright sun. He was tall and heavyset. The only hair on his head was the scruff on his dark face. His jersey was heavily stained and covered with God knew what. He scowled and said something but went without a fight.

The man watching cursed silently, wishing the cameras had picked up sound.

Once the older man was led away, the second was led out.

She was short and petite. Her dark hair was tied behind her head. Hoops hung from her ears and matched the bracelets on her wrists. The hot pink shirt she wore contrasted with her dark skin tone. She would occasionally turn and yell something over her shoulder as the men led her away.

The third was led out a second later. He thrashed wildly, his legs kicking in a white blur. How his suit still resembled the color white was a mystery. His dark hair fell into his face as he spat insults as the men holding him. When one looked away, the man in white barreled into him with his shoulder and knocked him to the ground. Suit gave a quick scowl and tried his best to run away but didn't get very far before he was tackled and dragged away in handcuffs.

By this time, the fourth and youngest member was brought out of the aircraft. He was pale and scared. Even the bill of his hat couldn't hide the fear in his pale blue eyes. One of the soldiers shoved him forward and he stumbled and almost fell. He managed to catch himself and limped painfully forward.

The video was paused and the man reached for another cigarette. He grabbed the carton and once he found it to be empty, he scowled and tossed it aside.

"Fuck..." he muttered.

"Thought you told your wife you quit, Miller," came a voice from behind him.

The man in the chair jumped and ripped the gun off his hip and aimed it at the source of the voice. Once he realized who had spoken, he lowered the gun.

"My wife's been dead for three months," Miller grumbled.

The other man shrugged. He was shorter and in his early thirties. His dark hair was combed back neatly and his black eyes showed no emotion as he met Miller's glare.

"What the hell do you want, Sanchez? This better be fucking important!" Miller growled.

"It's pretty important," Sanchez replied.

Miller sat back down in his chair and began to search the drawers in his desk for another pack of smokes. In the bottom drawer he found his last pack and grabbed it. He put the cigarette between his lips and lit it. He tried not to think about when the day would come and there wouldn't be anymore cigarettes.

"I haven't got all day," he grumbled.

Sanchez raised an eyebrow. "Really? Seems like it, I mean, you haven't left this room in days. You can tell by the way you smell."

Miller narrowed his eyes. "You know I can shoot you right now and get away with it right?"

"Yeah I know, but you won't or else you will be out of a doctor," Sanchez said.

"Just tell me what you came up here for," Miller groaned.

The doctor looked down at the clipboard in his hand and flipped through it until he found the sheet he was looking for.

"It's about the survivors and their treatment."

Miller took a long drag off his cigarette. "Go on."

"Well, for the group from a few weeks ago, we finally managed to erase any memory or knowledge of the infection, but with some side effects," Sanchez said.

"Such as?"

Sanchez flipped his paper over and squinted in the dim light. "Well, the female from the group, Zoey, has no memory of any of her companions. She doesn't recognize any of them, but luckily, we did manage to locate her younger half sister. We moved them both to an apartment downtown."

Miller clicked on the light in the room and looked at Sanchez. "No memory of either of the three men she arrived with?" he asked.

Sanchez blinked against the sudden light and shook his head. "None at all, we had a similar problem with Louis, no memory of those he arrived with. But we found his intelligence to be just what we needed so no worries there."

"And the other two?"

"We had better luck with Francis and Bill, They remember each other but have no recollection of either Zoey or Louis."

Miller let this information sink in before nodding and telling the doctor to go on.

Sanchez cleared his throat. "Now as for the ones from a week or so ago."

Miller grabbed another cigarette and raised an eyebrow.

"All four from New Orleans remember each other, so they were much more of a success than the last group. However, with the youngest, Ellis, he seems to be a challenge when it comes to erasing the things he saw dealing with the infected. Especially with the one called a 'Jockey'."

"Stupid fucking hick..." Miller shook his head.

"But maybe another session or two and they should be ready to be released." Sanchez sighed and set his clipboard on the desk. "Remind me again why the hell I'm doing this."

Miller stood up and walked over to the giant screen and looked up at it with his arms behind his back.

"Nearly the entire US population was killed by the virus. While people were panicking, the military and government were there to keep order and to keep the people calm. We managed to get most of the people out before they saw too much." Miller looked over his shoulder at Sanchez. "The people trust us to keep them safe, it's a certain trust we have. However, if the people find out that we were the ones that started this whole thing, that trust would be lost. The people would revolt and destroy us which in turn would leave them vulnerable and therefore be the end of the human race as we know it.

"Yes, Sanchez, we were the ones that started the Green Flu, the ones who created it. It was a simple experiment to find a cure to the all diseases, a super vaccine if you want to call it, but what was created was the deadliest virus known to man. We were told to destroy it but found it could be used as the perfect weapon. A disease with no cure, what could be worse? We began to experiment more and created different strains that reacted with certain genes. That's how the Specials were born."

Sanchez swallowed at the intense look in Miller's eyes as he continued.

"The government was losing the people's faith as more and more conspiracy theories were being leaked and more and more freedom thinkers began to tell of how corrupt we were. This country was reaching the boiling point. We needed to win the people's trust back but had run out of ideas until the virus was brought up. What better way to earn trust then to save them from an incurable disease? It was the perfect plan until recently when those who we thought were left for dead started contacting us, asking for rescue. Upon questioning, we found out they had seen things and started assuming things. We couldn't have them telling the others so we started silencing them but after the first few groups, we realized it was getting harder and harder to cover up what we were doing, there was too many of them. Then we met you, Sanchez, you and your associates can remove all memories of what we have created and done to the world. Granted, these past eight are your only successful ones, but it's a start."

Sanchez shook his head and rubbed his temples. "This isn't what I signed up for."

Miller snorted. "Well if you want to continue existing, you will keep doing it and keep your mouth shut. Do I make myself clear?"

The doctor nodded.

"Good, now go and make sure you erase all memory of what you did to them here as well before you turn them loose." Miller gave the doctor a small shove.

With a quick scowl, Sanchez left the room.

Miller sat in his chair and picked up the clipboard Sanchez had left there. He flipped through a few pages until he saw one that caught his eye.

Name': Nicholas

Age: 35

Nicholas has been difficult with the memory process. Has injured three doctors and broken over $1000 worth of equipment.

After each session, Nicholas has claimed to still remember and recollect what we have tried to erase. Once the test is complete, he had no recollection of the memory, however, 24 hours later he claims to remember parts but is unable to give specific details. Nothing like this has ever occurred before.

IMPORTANT: Keep close eye on Nicholas, especially while he is asleep for he-

Miller growled. Whatever was so important, Sanchez hadn't found important enough to finish writing. He growled, Sanchez hadn't mentioned one word to him about this. Suspicions began to rise as he made mental note to keep an eye on the doctor and all his documents.

Nicholas' picture was paper clipped to the paper. Upon studying it, Miller growled again and snatched the remote and hit rewind.

Once the man in the white suit appeared on the screen again, Miller hit pause and held up the picture of Nicholas. A quick comparison proved them to be the same guy.

"You're gonna be a real pain my ass," Miller growled.

He went to replace the picture when the sheet underneath caught his eye as well and he smiled as he read it over. He had found his solution to the problem.


End file.
